


Words on the Wall

by LONG LIVE EVIE (LadyLaviniya)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Art, Art Student Mal (Disney), Cute, Cutesy, F/F, Fluff, Graffiti, High School, Mal (Disney) in Love, Model Evie (Disney), Senior Projects, United States of Auradon (Disney), Useless Lesbians, most everyone who isn't Mal or Evie or FG has a minor role tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 14:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaviniya/pseuds/LONG%20LIVE%20EVIE
Summary: EVIL is just two strokes away from EVIE. Anyone could’ve made that mistake... right?Right?!





	Words on the Wall

Long live evil. That was the motto.

Spray painting was the latest in the long line of art-related subjects Mal decided from an early age to try her hand at, and for obvious reasons it was by far her favorite. Papers were too easily lost or torn, and the kinds of canvases she was used to were rarely without its own smudges already there. Walls were the way to go if you wanted it seen. Defacing property by way of creative expression—talk about killing two birds with one stone.

Even in Auradon. There was always some mural or three that needed doing somewhere or another, and while those were fun, happy, tame, she took whatever job she could get. There were so many colors here, even if most were warmer and more saturated than she cared for. With more colors came advanced color theory. So much pink and baby blue and, even though they were muted colors, pastels. _All_ the pastels.

(Well, okay, they weren’t that bad once she got used to it. Evie liked them, so they had _some_ value.)

Mal’s signature usually depended on her mood. Sometimes she just sprayed a crude purple ‘M’ on one corner of the work and called it good. Other times she wrote her name in big block letters with an evil smiley face just for kicks. Once, to spite Audrey (who totes deserved it, just saying), she took it a step further and sprayed a large #LongLiveEvil:) on the bottom of the piece she commissioned as an act of irony. Of course, that landed her in hot water and she had to write a formal apology letter, but it was worth it.

Mal smiled at the memory. She didn’t know what true horror was until she saw and heard that scream firsthand. Small victories, right? Hey, old habits die hard.

Fairy Godmother saw the work she did around the kingdom, or so she claimed, and decided to cut her some slack when she commissioned something on behalf of the school, hinting it would more than fulfill her senior project requirement if she decided to take it.

“I know forest scenery and portraits of royal figureheads aren’t your cup of tea,” she said as she led Mal around the side of the building. It was just the two of them, after classes ended, and it was very weird besides. “Especially when you were asked to paint Audrey’s request—”

Mal rolled her eyes, scoffing through her smile. “No kidding.”

“—but you know, Mal, the people of Auradon lead very different lives than those of the Isle. I will be the first to admit we have little idea what it’s like for five minutes, never mind on an hourly, daily, yearly basis.”

There better be a point to this, Mal thought.

“The point is,” Fairy Godmother went on, stopping so abruptly in her tracks Mal had to back up a couple steps. Regardless, Fairy Godmother smiled. “I know how hard you’ve been working on your art here in Auradon, and you have quite a talent for it. Every carriage, every animal, every single prince or princess you’ve shown the kingdom through your art has gotten better and better since the last. But I also know it’s not good for you to stick with one set of subjects for too long, so...”

She placed one hand on Mal’s shoulder, turning her to the right, and grandly gesturing to a blank wall of creamy off-white with the another.

“Ta-da!”

Mal quirked a brow as she eyed the massive potential of the wall first, and then Fairy Godmother. “So... you want me to make this entire wall about life on the Isle. Because you want to understand how it works, how it is. How it shaped me and the other VKs. Right?”

Fairy Godmother nodded vigorously, her smile still firmly in place. “Exactly. When you’re finished, we’ll make an event of unveiling it to the entire school. I think it would be a wonderful way to show everyone an important part of who you are while giving the students a little extra education. There are at least two who might need the lesson.” She winked. “What do you say, dear? Does it sound like something you’d like to do?”

Mal bit back a broadening smile. Hell yes it did. Dark and cold colors, her comfort zone, fuck yes. The gears were already turning. Who was it who originally suggested she incorporate art into her senior project rather than just giving the standard speech? That one off-hand comment was now being gift-wrapped and handed to her on a silver platter.

She nodded, giving the wall one last full look. Oh, yes. There was potential here. “Okay. Sure. I’m in. But I’ll need more supplies to cover this entire thing.” Fairy Godmother clapped her hands.

“Excellent! Whatever you need—cans, colors, ladders, stencils, yardsticks—let me know how much of what and I’ll put in the orders for you. And, as always—concept art, I’ll need to see a sketch or two, but don’t worry too much about that. If you need more space, though, you’ll have to talk to King Ben. He put in a good word on your behalf, you know.”

“Noted. Thanks.” Of course it was Ben. Good ol’ Ben. Sweet as the royal icing on the towering cake of Goodness.

Before they went their separate ways, Fairy Godmother stopped her again. “And if you want help—”

Admittedly, Mal forgot the rest. She never needed help when it came to her art. Not since she was four.

* * *

Every spare moment was spent at the wall. Staring at it, sliding her finger along the indents of the cement, sectioning everything carefully so nothing was out of place. Evie and the boys came by daily to check up on her, offering ideas for what to put in on the fly. When Jay and Carlos weren’t busy with whatever sport they were introduced to that week, they made sure she got some exercise by stealing her shit and playing keep away until Evie, or some passersby (usually Jane, or Lonnie, or both), told them to cut it out. They never stayed too long, though, and thank God for that.

It took two weeks for her to finish, and every day, Evie was right there watching her. She sat under the shade of an apple tree with her chemistry book in her lap and a picnic basket beside her backpack. At a quarter to four, she always insisted Mal take a break. For both their sakes.

Sweet Evie.

“Little girl, little girl,” Mal taunted as she drew near, taking exaggerated steps as she curled her fingers to makeshift claws, “What do you have in your basket today?”

Evie giggled, reaching into it as Mal dropped the act and took a seat. “Tarts,” she said, pulling out a container which presumably held the tarts. “I made those today during Home Ec. Sparkling water—oh, here, yours is strawberry-flavored. Let’s see... salad for me, gyros for you, and for dessert—”

“Wait, the tarts aren’t dessert?”

A coy smile. Pulling one final tupperware container from the basket, Evie opened the lid to reveal... “Brownies. Ah!” She closed the lid and put the brownies back into the basket when Mal reached for one. “Not until you’ve finished your gyros, M.”

Mal scoffed, picking up and folding back the foil of her gyros. “In that case, they better be special brownies.”

“Of course they are. They’re special because _I_ made them,” Evie pouted. Mal choked on her first bite.

“Fffck you, E,” she said. It was meant to be a jest, as it always was nowadays, but Evie was already digging into her salad, her plastic fork noisily working its way around the corresponding container to catch a rogue cherry tomato.

“Love you too, M,” Evie said without looking. “Hah! Got it!”

Mal shook her head when Evie popped the cherry tomato into her mouth with a proud grin.

Sweet, cute, and precious. Now there’s a dangerous combo for Auradon.

Evie usually stayed until around six, but she was never a bother about it (i.e. she never stole any of Mal’s shit for fun). When she didn’t have homework, she’d listen to music, read, hand sew small garments, or fix small things. One time, Mal saw her with some yarn and a little needle thing.

“It’s called crochet, and all you need is the hook and yarn,” Evie explained over their meal that day, “It works very quickly. If you’d like... Actually, I shouldn’t ask. I’ll make a set for you for the colder seasons. Once I get used to working with acrylic, and the color black, and once I get better at crocheting, of course, you’ll see what I mean. But since you’ll be wearing it, I’ll look for something pure cotton instead since some acrylic yarn can be pretty scratchy and uncomfortable on the skin. So—”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about, but I trust you,” Mal said over a laugh.

“I trust you too.”

She peered up. “What?”

Evie’s voice didn’t waver. “To not make me look fat on your wall.”

Mal laughed again. “Well, I’ll do my best... but just to make sure, I guess you better give me a damn good reference photo!” Her eyes stayed on Evie as they each took a sip of water from their own bottles. Evie held her chin up high, a bold smile playing on her lips.

“Even better. I’ll model for you.” She giggled. “What? I stay here until the sun sets anyway. And Fairy Godmother said if you needed help, you’re only allowed to ask me, Jay, Ben, Carlos, Lonnie, or Jane, remember?”

Mal nodded. “Riiight.”

So that’s what they did the next day. Mal brought her sketchpad, Evie her usual, and for the first time in about a week and a half, Mal didn’t look at her wall. It didn’t matter that everything from the shoulders or even the head down was not going to be included the mural, she got it all. Evie made every face in the book, and some not found in any books. She puckered her lips for a kiss, puffed her cheeks like a chipmunk, batted her lashes. For a while, they forgot about the wall entirely.

(The boys weren’t half as into it as Evie when she went to sketch their faces, but oh well.)

It was half past seven that Wednesday evening when Mal got to the last, and easiest, part of the entire mural—the motto.

LONG

LIVE EVIL!

“Perfect.” And without looking back, she went on to text Jane to tell Fairy Godmother she was finally done.

* * *

The following Friday afternoon saw most the school standing in front of the largest white sheet Fairy Godmother was able to find to hide her creation. Mal had to fight the urge to lean up against the wall while she waited for Ben and the other VKs to show. Audrey and Chad were already up front, Audrey with a hand on her hip looking bored, and Chad with his arms crossed. Lonnie and Jane were there too, and they offered excited smiles and many thumbs-up.

Ben led her group of friends through the crowd of students, but even before she got to the front Evie was already beaming and bouncing excitedly in place next to Jane. She looked at Mal and blew a kiss.

“Of course _you’re_ excited,” Mal said, sending a sweet smile back, “You don’t have to give a speech today.”

But Evie didn’t seem to hear her over the buzz of the other students.

“Good luck, Mal!” Evie cried, “You can do it!”

Fairy Godmother, with her clipboard in the air to show she was there, cut through the crowd of students with light steps and brisk apologies, popping out between Ben and Chad, surprising them. Her face was tinted pink and she blew out a breath and adjusted her hair before she made her way to Mal at her most professional pace.

“I’m just going to say a few words and the floor will be all yours, okay?” she said cheerily, “Remember, profanity is to be kept light or points will be docked, and you must speak for at least fifteen minutes.”

Mal nodded emphatically through her tight-lipped smile. “No pressure. Got it.”

Her eyes fell on Evie just as the entire student body (or most of it, honestly, she couldn’t tell) gave their attention to their headmistress. Almost immediately, Evie’s gaze broke away from Fairy Godmother and locked onto Mal. Her smile returned, she signed M-A-L with her fingers before offering yet another encouraging thumbs-up.

She’d seen almost the entirety of Mal’s senior project already. What was hers? Something to do with chemistry or clothes, probably. A fashion show? God knew Evie always wanted to have one of those. Whatever it was, Mal would have to help, just like Evie did for her. But bringing food might be a bad idea though... she’d have to think of some other way to go about it.

“Mal!” someone hissed. Fairy Godmother? “Go!”

She blinked. The applause was her cue to unveil her masterpiece, and she almost missed it. Turning about, Mal grabbed the white sheet and gave it a good yank. In a loud _fwwwwwp_ the entire sheet fell to the ground, almost over Fairy Godmother, revealing to the student body her most recent passion project. Gasps and _oooohs_ and _ahhhhs_ littered the crowd as they marveled at the sight of it. Chad and Audrey’s faces were especially noteworthy.

On the upper right-hand side about a fourth of the height of the wall itself stood a nice castle to represent Auradon. That was where most of her pastel colors went, just one round of that. There was a waterfall of a saturated rainbow spilling out from the bottom left corner of the castle, and the shape of it became smaller and thinner the further away it went, blending all the colors into into a sludge of brown. That brown turned into black, which took up the bulk of the wall afterwards in a thick cloud.

On the far right, a silhouette of her mother towered above the ones of Jafar, Cruella, and the Evil Queen. Below those sat the silhouettes of Ursula, Captain Hook, and Gaston. They warded off the black cloud, trapping the images of the Isle into the confines of its shape. Of empty plates, broken windows, mediocre food that looked like an ogre with a severe cold coughed on it. Of glowing eyes, makeshift gadgets for mundane tasks, torn books with pages missing. A game board with pieces taken from different games. Kids who were in the midst of or about to fight, kids who stole for a living like she and Jay used to, or worked under miserable conditions with their miserable parents doing who knows what. She drew Dragon Hall with F papers and pencils and knives spilling from its doors. Miniature cartoon versions of Evie, Jay, Carlos, and her chilling at her hideout; Uma by the docks alongside Gil and Harry and Claudine; Dizzy Tremaine with her favorite pair of scissors that were bigger than her head.

And underneath it all, written within a twisting banner, in big, bold, confident letters were the words:

LONG

LIVE EVIE!

 

Shit!

No one was looking at the bottom yet, thankfully. Their eyes went from corner to corner, side to side, center to every other way but down. Good. Good. Mal inched her way in front of the words. She caught Evie’s eye again.

Evie, having seen most everything already, tilted her head to look past her, behind Mal’s legs. Mal froze when Evie’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, hands flying to cover her mouth and then her heart. She shared a knowing smile and then held a finger to her lips. Then, she winked.

“Mal,” Fairy Godmother said again, “Whenever you’re ready, dear.”


End file.
